<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>there's a cottage to keep you safe by species_baby</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29532174">there's a cottage to keep you safe</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/species_baby/pseuds/species_baby'>species_baby</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Assassination Attempt(s), Attempt at Banter, Bromance, Crushes, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, George just wants to see dreams face, Knight Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Light Angst, M/M, Minor Injuries, Prince GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), They become friends, badboyhalo is mentioned, but only from george's perspective, dream has been pining the entire time, kinda george-centric, no beta we die like george in manhunt, techno is only here bc he has a house and I love his character, these are characters !!, they are both dumb, they are staying in a cottage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:13:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,643</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29532174</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/species_baby/pseuds/species_baby</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>George notices, hidden in the trees, that Dream is much more comfortable surrounded by dirt and leaves and sun then he ever seemed in the palace. Granted, the palace was all stiff marble and wide hallways. But it was Georges home and it was beautiful and comfortable and perfect. George hates Dream a little more for acting lighter in the forest, it makes him desperately want for a home that has been overtaken and tainted. He wants his gold trim and blue cushions and pale, sturdy marble. George is sick of dirt and leaves and Dream is revelling in them.</p><p>aka: George learns to unhate Dream while they hide in a cottage in the woods.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>141</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>there's a cottage to keep you safe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This took me way too long to write and the ending was rushed, which seems like a reoccurring theme with my work. I hope you enjoy this very self-indulgent fic. Comments are super extra appreciated. I love hearing what people thought and ways to improve my writing. </p><p>Also this is shipping personas not actual people. If any of the creators written in this story express discomfort with their character being written into fiction this story will be edited or taken down accordingly.</p><p>Enjoy :]</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dream had lived in the woods. <em> Of course </em>Dream had lived in the woods. It was something that should have been obvious like saying “the sky is blue” or “Tommy is a child”. It was something George was aware of but hadn’t really registered until the moment he was high tailing it behind Dream in said woods. And Dream was moving with the casual agility of being familiar with his surroundings. It hurt George to admit, but in that moment, he was happy Dream was his guard and not one of the others. You would never catch him saying that out loud though, secret admiration is secret for a reason. He also hated Dream. And that kind of admission would make it way too difficult to cling to childish pettiness and anger.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t really remember last night but he is vaguely aware that he didn’t sleep. There were bad people at the castle and the King had ordered them to hole up in the servants quarters but not to leave. Bad had come down, breathless and crying. He leaned over to Dream and whispered something in his ear. George had never wanted to see Dream's face as badly as he did then in that moment. It was a physical kind of ache to want to see his reaction to whatever news must be whispered in front of a prince. Here they are though, running through the woods that Dream grew up in. George staggering along and tripping on the branches that most definitely moved out of the way for Dream. Because they like him more. Because he was familiar and George was not.</p><p> </p><p>George is distantly aware he left his crown in his room and he wants to cry. It's a gross and pathetic feeling that takes root in his chest and doesn’t leave. He knows, he <em> knows </em>there are more important things but he is still aching and attached. Maybe if he was wearing his crown he’d feel more like a prince running away for the safety and dignity of his land than a coward hiding for himself.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Gold is too noticeable. He’d get both of them killed with the weight of the crown on his head. He would act like a lighthouse calling their pursuers like ravaged ships from sea. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>George lets the burning sensation of tears die down as he runs on legs powered only by adrenaline, survival instincts, and Dreams hand gripping his own. He hates Dream. He hates him less now, but he still feels general disdain when the knight is present. In the past, in a time where he was a few months younger and less wise and Dream was cocky with reason but without abandon, George had developed a very early and what he would say a correct opinion of Dreams character. Young and the best and stupid and blind to anyone else. Dream fits this cutout less and less the more George knows about him, but his cockiness and stubbornness are hard to look past. </p><p> </p><p>They escape, miraculously and because of whatever forest bullshit Dream pulls. They hide in the trees, a little too far above the ground for Georges liking but he stomachs his fear because a racing heart is better than a stilled one. Dream looks at him and George is pretty sure he’s smiling. George really <em> really </em> just wants to see Dream's face right now. It would make him feel like he was running away with an actual person. Or maybe it wouldn’t. George has a feeling that he will hate Dream’s face. He thinks the reason Dream hides it is because it's ulgy, like a reflection of his attitude. He was cursed with gross facial proportions because he was a prick. Yeah, that sounds about right to George. </p><p> </p><p>George notices, hidden in the trees, that Dream is much more comfortable surrounded by dirt and leaves and sun then he ever seemed in the palace. Granted, the palace was all stiff marble and wide hallways. But it was Georges home and it was beautiful and comfortable and perfect. George hates Dream a little more for acting lighter in the forest, it makes him desperately want for a home that has been overtaken and tainted. He wants his gold trim and blue cushions and pale, sturdy marble. George is sick of dirt and leaves and Dream is <em> revelling </em> in them. It makes him nauseous, but that could also be the hunger. When had he last eaten? </p><p> </p><p>“Dream?” No response, typical. He tried again “Dream.”</p><p> </p><p>It was probably after the fifth time George called his name that Dream whipped around and snapped, “What?” a break, a hesitation, he was gentler the second time. More aware of his position, “What, your highness?” George knew it was a bad idea to punch his only guard, but he wanted to. Oh how he wanted to.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m hungry and tired. We’ve been walking for hours and I’ve no <em> idea </em> where we are,” George gestured emphatically, “I am your prince,” Dream huffed, “I am your <em> prince </em> and I think you should explain.”</p><p> </p><p>Dream turned and walked into the forest. George stood there, still waiting, he heard a distant call, “Come on your highness! We’re visiting a friend, he’ll have food and a place to rest that pretty little head of yours” It felt mocking. Correction, it was mocking but George got his answer and he honestly could not expend energy on pointing out Dream’s tone. It would lead down a rabbit hole of sarcasm and petty fighting and George was not in the mood. He was too <em> tired </em>. Really in this moment his only option was to shut his mouth, follow Dream, and figure out a way to remind Dream that respect exists later. </p><p> </p><p>There were a couple breaks where Dream would find safe berries and throw them towards George to eat. The first time George refused to eat them and he didn’t know if he was doubting Dream’s knowledge or Dream himself but he did know forgein berries made him uneasy. He would not be eating those no matter how much his stomach felt like writhing snakes. He actually did end up eating them, (only after Dream turned away, lifted his mask, and ate some himself).</p><p> </p><p>After another hour or so of walking later and several more berry breaks they arrive in an area that has been hollowed out and lived in. The trees thin and there is a dirt path leading to a cottage that George thinks would look infinitely better in the winter. There are flowers sprouting from the ground that are probably beautiful and vibrant, not like George can tell though. </p><p> </p><p>While George hesitates at the edge of this little outcropping, Dream waltzes forward like he’s been living there for years. When George pictured Dream living in the woods he imagined toughing it out in the elements and almost starving and Dream becoming rough around the edges. He never pictured a sweet cottagecore lifestyle. It didn’t seem to fit Dream. Like a sweater that was too big and warm for summer seasons. </p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t know you lived in a Granny cottage.”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t,” Dream angled his head slightly towards George, “and I recommend not making jokes like that with the person who lives here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why, is she sensitive because of old age?”</p><p> </p><p>Dream huffs a laugh but George can sense his nervousness, “No, it's because this friend of mine… we didn’t exactly leave off on the best of terms. And- and he has an issue with authority, especially government figures.” George thinks Dream is making a big deal out of nothing. This person and Dream were friends. Surely he would see how desperate they were and lend them at least a little aid. </p><p> </p><p>Then as soon Dream knocks, the door opens and immediately slams in their faces, “Nope!” The voice is frighteningly deep.</p><p> </p><p>Dreams starts, “But-”</p><p> </p><p>“Nope!” Is this the only word the man knows?</p><p> </p><p>“Techno we need you!”</p><p> </p><p>“We? Oh definitely not then.”</p><p> </p><p>“Please, you’re being mean.”</p><p> </p><p>“You show up after years and I know it's only because of trouble”</p><p> </p><p>“When else was I supposed to come?”</p><p> </p><p>The man inside pauses to think, “Never.”</p><p> </p><p>“Exactly what I’m talking about, you wouldn't have talked to me if I came earlier anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>“And I won’t talk to you now. Leave.”</p><p> </p><p>“C’mon, help an old friend out!”</p><p> </p><p>The door cracks open, “Friend was stretching it before you left and backstabbed me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Techno, don’t do this to me.”</p><p> </p><p>“You did this yourself.”</p><p> </p><p>“It's not like I had a choice!”</p><p> </p><p>“You could have asked for help!”</p><p> </p><p>“Ok, true.” Dream swipes a hand through his hair nervously and faces directly towards the slightly open door, “But- but I <em> learned </em>and I’m asking for help now,” no response. Dream sounds weak, “Please, Techno.”</p><p> </p><p>The door opens a little more, “Is it nether brick bad?”</p><p> </p><p>“Worse.”</p><p> </p><p>The door slams shut again and George wants to scream but Dream just laughs quietly, “Now I know you haven’t learned shit. Nothing can be worse.” A bit of the tension has eased out of his shoulders and Dream walks up to the door and just knocks again. It sounds different. It sounds like a secret told in broad daylight. George feels like he's intruding. </p><p> </p><p>The door opens fully. Dream walks in, “Thank you Techno, really.”</p><p> </p><p>“I still don’t forgive you,”</p><p> </p><p>Dream laughs, a bit sad, “I know.” Their voices are muffled and Dream peeks his head out the door. He motions for Geroge to come inside. George doesn’t understand but he thinks whatever that was just secured them at least one safe night. Thank god for Dreams stupid stubborness. </p><p> </p><p>The man they’re getting help from is called Technoblade. Dream is allowed to call him Techno, George has a feeling he does not have that luxury. Technoblade is incredibly tall and intimidating. He is some sort of pig hybrid and although he lives in a Granny cottage surrounded by beautiful, dainty little flowers, he walks like someone who has fought and won many battles. His face has scars and his eyes are like blood. His voice is deep and startles George every time he talks. The walls of his house are covered with weapons that are trying and failing to disguise themselves as decorative. There is a basement where George is certain he can hear voices or trapped animals. Potions are scattered around the house, some George recognizes, some he doesn’t, and others he wishes he didn’t know. Despite all of these terrifying details about Technoblade and his home, perhaps the most unsettling thing about him is the way he dresses. </p><p> </p><p>Technoblade is a pig in king's clothes and George is deeply disturbed. He feels offended and homesick and he has absolutely no one to voice these thoughts to because Dream would probably laugh and be an asshole. And he can’t exactly complain about how unsettled Technoblades wardrobe makes him feel to<em> Technobalde </em>. That would probably get them kicked out of their temporary little safe haven.</p><p> </p><p>Technoblade and Dream aren’t outright hostile to each other but the sneaking coils of tension seem to follow them wherever they walk. The uneasiness is spread through the house and weighs down on George like a suffocating blanket. He’s waiting for one of them to snap; what follows after that, he can’t be sure. But the jabs and the references and the constant strain is wearing down on George. He wants home. He wants the warm honey feeling in his chest from lying down in a too large puffy bed. He wants the comfort of servants gently waking him up with his favorite foods. He wants to be annoyed at Dream, he wants to <em> hate </em>Dream without feeling guilty and wrong. He misses three days ago and he would give his right arm to live in the day before the attack forever. It was a completely ordinary day, not the best but not terrible either. It was lukewarm, but what George longs for right now is the stagnant warmth of lukewarm. </p><p> </p><p>On the third night of Georges stay at Technoblades house he hears a shuffling on the roof. The noise of movement and almost secrecy but not quite. The person fumbled because of nervousness or because it was 2:00 AM. George wasn’t really thinking about how a trained assassin wouldn’t be making those noises when his heart started racing and he turned abruptly to look at the floor of the guest room. Where Dream should have been sleeping there was an empty spot. The blanket was pristine and it was almost as if there never was another person living in the room. It looked like Technoblade had made the mistake of setting up a space for two instead of the required one. George made the decision to investigate whatever the noise was alone because he could not stomach not knowing.</p><p> </p><p>It was Dream. <em> Of course </em>it was Dream. He was sitting on the roof of Technoblades house looking statuesque. If George could capture this image in a painting he would. He would hope to God that Dream stays still long enough for the painter to masterfully craft his likeness. He would hang the painting in a hall where he could stare everyday. It was beautiful, not because of Dream (Dream is not the type of person you look at and think beautiful) but because of the emotions flowing from him. They were palpable. George almost left but Dream had scared him and needed to know not to do it again. (Not because he was curious. That would be absurd. Why would George ever willingly spend more time talking to Dream? Honestly, he was forced into this conversation by Dream’s idiocy.)</p><p> </p><p>“You frightened me,” Dream gives no indication that he’s listening but George knows he is, “I thought you were some assassin come to finish the job.”</p><p> </p><p>This time Dream turns to look at him and George can feel the incredulity radiating off of him, “And you came to investigate?” George was silent. The mocking tone was strong and Dream turned back around. Softly he tacked on a small, “Your highness.” It felt wrong. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ll admit it wasn't the smartest plan, good thing it was only you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, good thing.” </p><p> </p><p>George leaned forward, trying to get Dream to look at him. </p><p> </p><p>“What are you doing up here anyway?” Dream didn’t respond, George huffed “You should answer your prince when he asks you a direct question.” He didn’t know why he was picking a fight and he didn’t know why Dream wasn’t taking the bait. Dream was hotheaded and defensive and <em> always </em>took an opportunity to fight George. He wasn’t acting normally and George was giving him every opportunity to be his normal dickish self. George needed him to be his normal dickish self, everything was changing and even though Dream was a prick all of the time at least that was a constant in George’s life. George didn’t like this quiet, night-time, roof-dwelling Dream. He was different and he was silent enough that George could hear the entire forest. He sat there and probably waited for George to leave. </p><p> </p><p>It felt like forever before Dream finally said anything, he must have realized that George wasn’t going to leave, “I used to live in this forest, you know”</p><p> </p><p>“I know” George didn’t comment on the lack of honorifics, he was just glad Dream was talking. </p><p> </p><p>“When I was really young I met Techno, he was a forest kid too. But he was different, he had a family.”</p><p> </p><p>“Had?”</p><p> </p><p>“They were- they’re not-” Dream sounded helpless, “I don’t think it’s my place. I’m sorry, your highness” George only nodded, he didn’t want to prematurely get kicked out because he couldn’t keep his curiosity in check. George grew up as a prince, he was used to not knowing, to ignoring whispers, to waiting to find out at the right time. Dream spoke again, softly, “They were very kind people.”</p><p> </p><p>“Did you have a family?” George thinks he already knew the answer.</p><p> </p><p>Dream hesitated, “No.” There was a lie somewhere in there but George couldn’t pick it out. It was silent again. </p><p> </p><p>After some time George attempted to spark conversation again, “The forest is so loud.”</p><p> </p><p>Dream chuckled, “Yeah,” he paused and George was nervous that that would be the end and he’d be forced to sit in his own thoughts next to someone who could usually drown them out. But Dream continued and George was more relieved than he would care to admit, “When I first moved into the palace I had to get used to people sound instead of wilderness sound. But it was always so silent at night,” He looked down and picked at the roof, “I never really slept well in silence.”</p><p> </p><p>“I would assume that you would be sleeping well here then?”</p><p> </p><p>Dream laughed again, “Actually, I never really slept well at all.” George hadn’t known that. George didn’t know if he wanted to know that. It was said like a joke but it felt like something more. Like an admission of something deeper, but he couldn’t tell what. </p><p> </p><p>George opened his mouth and closed it, debating, “I think it takes at least two hours for me to fall asleep every night” Dream turned to him, surprised maybe?</p><p> </p><p>“I guess we’re just a couple of insomniacs then” George could hear the smile in his voice and wished he could see it on his face.</p><p> </p><p>“I guess we are”</p><p> </p><p>And that was it. George left Dream because he didn’t know if he could handle anymore nighttime revelations. He was shaken by a friendly conversation. He doesn’t know if Dream ever came down and slept. Their talk felt like a hallucination and George couldn’t be sure that it happened. It really wasn’t that strange. It was just a conversation but it felt unreal and so much more. They weren’t friends. That was why, they weren’t friends but they had talked with such casual comfortability. </p><p> </p><p>The morning was harsh and unforgiving. The sun was following George wherever he went, intent on blinding him. </p><p> </p><p>“Good morning your majesty” Technoblade’s gruff voice was even deeper and scarier with the morning. George felt too much like an invasive species to correct him. But the itching sensation to say <em> it's your highness </em>made itself apparent. The thing is, your majesty meant his parents were dead. George wasn’t stupid, they most likely were but he would like to live in his little oblivious bubble a while longer. He didn’t have time right now to deal with grief and succeeding the throne. He just wanted to assume the best and move on with his day. He wanted to live in this little cottage in the woods with the two possibly scariest people in this kingdom and pretend like he would get to go home to a very healthy King, Queen, and palace staff. </p><p> </p><p>“Good morning Technoblade, looks to be a sunny day”</p><p> </p><p>“It does”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you- do you have any plans? Or- or errands for the-” George was cut off and thank god. He does not stutter. (What about Technoblades presence made him so goddamn nervous?)</p><p> </p><p>“I appreciate the attempt you majesty,” <em> your highness </em> George so desperately wants to interrupt back, “but I am not one for small talk. If you only want to appear polite then silence is recommended and if you wish to hear your own voice I suggest finding your <em> loyal servant </em>.” The last words are said with notable poison that George elects to ignore. Dream had wronged Technoblade and they could deal with it amongst themselves. George did not want to insert himself into more conflict than necessary. </p><p> </p><p>He finds Dream out at the edge of the woods. Dream might be training but George is too bored and too stressed to leave him be. They had a kind of friendly conversation last night, maybe that civility will translate to the day.</p><p> </p><p>“Your highness” Dreams back is straight with rigid formality and discipline. Things he didn’t exhibit even back at the palace. </p><p> </p><p>“Hello Dream,” George smiles lightly, “Did you ever sleep?”</p><p> </p><p>Dream runs the back of his neck. Embarrassed possibly? George can’t tell with that damn mask on, he wants to rip it off. Too bad Dream would literally leave him for dead if he did that. “Ah, no your highness, I did not,” He looks in George’s direction, “Did you?”</p><p> </p><p>George’s smile becomes easier to hold onto, “I did but the sun has an awful way of starting the day hot and early”</p><p> </p><p>Dream's less tense now and he chuckles, “It’s already 9 am”</p><p> </p><p>“Exactly.” At that Dream lets out the most startling noise George has ever heard in his entire life. It's reminiscent of an angry and loud teapot; at the same time George feels a flash of concern that maybe Dream had punctured a lung. He sure sounded like he was deflating. As George attempted to crane his neck to check to see if the doubled over Dream was physically ok the noise got louder and it hit George like a brick- “Wait, are you laughing?!” Dream wheezes even harder and George finds himself unable to hold in giggles. “It’s-it’s not even that funny.” It really isn’t but George can’t contain the joy that is bursting at the seams. His heart is a bird rapidly beating its wings and the only thing George can do is laugh. He might be laughing at the absurdity of their situation or the fact that Dream has willingly and without mockery called him your highness or that he can no longer hate Dream. He just knows that the bird that is his heart is moving far too quickly and that Dreams wheezes remind him of teapots. </p><p> </p><p>It’s night again. The light slowly drained from the sky and was replaced by bitter blue. George wonders how beautiful the sunset would have been if he could see the colors. </p><p> </p><p><em> George wonders how Dream would look lit by the last breaths of the sun, without the mask </em>. </p><p> </p><p>He had been staring at Dream recently (not on purpose it just happened- George wasn’t actively trying to look at Dream) and he noticed that more often than not the mask was turned towards him. Facing in his direction, looking directly at him, focused on him. Now George isn’t stupid, he’s aware there is training ingrained into Dream’s bones the makes him extra aware whenever George is in a room, but George can’t help that it makes his heart into a bird all over again. And George thinks that maybe Dream had been staring at him before and he missed it. How he could have been blind to Dream, he doesn’t know. But he’s making the most of this trust and Dream’s attention. He looks back. And most times they hold eye contact (or creepy mask contact) and then break out laughing. It’s incredibly difficult to not laugh around Dream. He’s bright in a way George has never seen a person be before. He’s like the sun but he orbits George and it’s all so confusing and twisted up. So George allows himself to have lingering stares and fits of giggles with someone that he was convinced he hated a week ago.</p><p> </p><p>George brings it up one day, “You’re always looking at me.”</p><p> </p><p>“It is my job, is it not your highness?” Dream speaks with a casualness that isn’t actually there. Like how a painting of a tree will never have the same emotion as one that can actually grow. It feels much too airy. But George doesn’t want to call Dream out on the stiffness of his tone. He doesn’t want Dream to stop looking at him just because he brought it up.</p><p> </p><p>“I suppose,” George smiled, “Do all the knights get trained to stare?”</p><p> </p><p>Dream laughs, “I was the top of my class your highness,” He speaks with false grandiose but not in an awkward hiding things way, “I was known as Dream: The Eye Ace!”</p><p> </p><p>George snorts, “The Eye Ace? That has to be the dumbest name I’ve ever heard.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh yeah? What would you have called me?”</p><p> </p><p>“The Royal Watcher?”</p><p> </p><p>Dream wheezes loudly and George smiles because he did that. He made Dream laugh like the air in his lungs’ only goal was to escape, “The Royal Watcher?” He wheezes again and can’t seem to catch his breath.</p><p> </p><p>George is laughing too, “Get a hold of yourself.”</p><p> </p><p>Dream just keeps wheezing, he’s gasping like he can’t breathe and George wants to see his face again, “How did you manage to come up with a name that is so bland and so creepy at the same time?” Dream is loud and impossibly bright. George wants to trap this moment in time. Dream is still way too cocky and way too stubborn but now he’s George’s friend and George wants to keep him. He wants to freeze time and keep Dream laughing hard at jokes that do not deserve it. Things are good right now, despite the terrible situation that lurks in the back of George’s mind. Things are wonderful actually.</p><p> </p><p>Things go bad. <em> Of course </em>things go bad. Honestly why did George even begin to consider that he could live in his little safe world with Dream at a scary pig’s cottage home. They had found George. George wasn’t sure who they were but he’s assuming some type of assassin or hit team. They were sent for his head, to end his family’s legacy. To strip the gold from his blood in death and make him nameless and common. George would rather die on his own terms. When he realized what was happening he almost asked Dream to kill him. (Maybe he could also ask to see Dream’s face if he was about to die. It was a bit cruel but George had never cared too much about seeming mean before.) But he knew Dream would refuse. He was loyal like that and emotional too. George had a feeling that Dream was attached to him by more than just duty now. George had a feeling that maybe that had been true for a while and he was just a bit too caught up in his own world to see.</p><p> </p><p>Anyway there are people here trying to kill George, even though he hasn’t worn a crown in a week and a half. They are bad people. The people who raided his home and probably killed his parents. They are horrible people and Dream is fighting them. Isn't it interesting how the man he used to hate is battling for his safety against the people who currently hold his ire? George isn’t sure if that’s irony but it sure feels like it. </p><p> </p><p>Technoblade is there with one of the axes that was hanging on a wall in his sweet cottage. George knew they weren’t just for decoration. He is fluid in the battle. He fights like God and George was so sure Dream was the best, whatever, he’s been wrong about Dream multiple times before. George is so focused on watching Technoblade effortlessly kill from behind the safety of glass he forgets about Dream. George isn’t paying attention because he's seen Dream fight a thousand times before. Technoblade isn’t paying attention because if any one person could rival him, it would be Dream. He’s talented and skillful and he’s been practicing and perfecting his technique every damn day of his life. That’s why George is sure he wears a cocky smile into battles like these. That's probably why Technoblade let them into his house and it’s why he’ll allow them to stay even after the trouble. Dream is good at what he does. He earns the respect he gets. So George isn’t paying attention.</p><p> </p><p>It wouldn’t have changed the outcome if he was watching Dream instead. But in the moment, in that split second where George was forced to watch the sun crumble in front of him he felt his heart stop. He was frozen over completely, the bird in his chest died and the rose tinted glass in his eyes was washed out by tears. And George realizes that he was wrong to be confused before. Dream was like the sun and he was never orbiting George. George was orbiting him. It makes a lot more sense now. George had been confused and it took going cold to understand. </p><p> </p><p>Everything else happened in a blur. He was inside and then he wasn’t. Technoblade noticed and his casual annoyance turned to icy rage. The remaining men were no match for a possessed Techno. After all, he still had to tell Dream what an idiot he was for leaving in the first place and then coming back and getting stabbed. George was crying maybe. And Dream had chuckled lightly when George called him stupid and arrogant. Was laughing the only way he knew how to respond to anything? They took him inside and George was forced to be useless and watching in the corner as Technobalde treated wounds with ease and familiarity. </p><p> </p><p>George felt like he was floating in the terrible light headed aching way. He wanted to see Dream’s face. He wanted to see Dream’s face more now than ever before and that fact is unshakable. He wanted to see that there was still light in Dream’s eyes. He needed to know. But Technoblade didn’t take off Dream’s mask ever. Had Techno seen Dream’s face before? They apparently grew up together so it would make sense. The burning coil of unease in George's gut only grew when he thought about it. He wanted to leave but he couldn’t. Because then he would be alone and unsure if he would have to get used to silence. </p><p> </p><p>They say the first thing you forget about a person is their voice. George didn’t want to forget Dream’s voice. He just couldn’t. So he stayed in the room and waited until Technoblade’s shoulders relaxed and Dream’s breathing was even. And then he stayed even longer. It wasn’t like he was going to be able to sleep anyway. </p><p> </p><p>Three days. It took three days before Dream, the absolute idiot, woke from his little flirt with death.</p><p> </p><p>He grunted and rubbed a hand through his hair and turned so his mask was looking directly at George, “Good to see you’re doing well, but I am so hungry your highness,” George wants to punch him. Really? He was glad <em> George </em>was doing well? George wasn’t the one who got fucking stabbed.</p><p> </p><p>“You are such an idiot!”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey-” Dream was cut off by George launching himself at the masked man. It was awkward positioning and George might have been forcing Dream to twist a little too much but he was awake and that was all that mattered. They had never hugged before. Dream was comfortable.</p><p> </p><p>“But thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>Dream held onto George and giggled, “If I get prince hugs every time I’m stabbed I might need to look for some for-hire assassins.”</p><p> </p><p>George laughed, “Don’t you dare.”</p><p> </p><p>Dream shifted a bit, “I’m really sorry about this,” he sounded so despondent, “but I’m going to need to reschedule this hug your highness,” George released him and the look on his face made Dream panic, “Not because I don’t want princey hugs, I definitely do! And I will be taking advantage of the fact that I can now hug you casually,” George sputtered, “But, my side is still very much a stab wound and in pain.”</p><p> </p><p>George just laughed, fonder this time, “You are such an idiot.”</p><p> </p><p>He could hear the grin in Dream’s voice, “Your idiot?”</p><p> </p><p>George snorted, “Shut up.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey I could’ve died,” Dream crossed his arms like a petulant child, “Give me this.”</p><p> </p><p>George sighed, “Fine,” Dream immediately brightened and laughed loudly. One word drew out a long and probably painful wheeze (because of the stab wound) and George thinks he could spend the rest of his life looking for words that made Dream laugh like that. He would give up his beautiful home and his rich crown and spend the rest of his days searching for the perfect sentences and arrangements to make Dream sound like the tea kettles he used to hear when he snuck into the castle kitchen. He wanted to see Dream’s face again.</p><p> </p><p>“Dream?”</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm?” Dream looked over.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I-” Can George ask? Is he allowed? He wants this so badly, does it even matter anymore that it would ruin George’s chances of ever hating Dream again. To be fair, those chances were ruined when he found Dream alone and contemplative on a rooftop, “Can I see your face?”</p><p> </p><p>George sees Dreams face for the first time three days after Dreams been stabbed on a lazy morning in a hidden forest cottage owned by a bloodthirsty pig. Dream is classically beautiful in the way you can’t look away from. He has freckles like stars and George wishes he could count them all. It’s so cliche how Dream’s face makes him feel. His heart is beating rapidly again. The bird wants to break free from his chest and swim and drown in the gold of Dream’s eyes. They’re probably not actually gold but George doesn’t really care. Dream has a couple thin scars- one on his chin and one slanted across the bridge of his nose. His face is well defined but still manages to look youthful. George wants to know what he looks like when he’s wheezing or smiling lightly or grinning cockily. George can't believe he ever thought Dream might be ugly under the mask. George wants to reach out and touch Dreams face.</p><p> </p><p>George wants to kiss him. Oh.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re pretty.”</p><p> </p><p>Oh shit.</p><p> </p><p>“So are you, your highness”</p><p>George gets to see a light grin. It looks mischievous. He wants to kiss Dream for the second time that day. <em> Fuck</em>.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I can't believe I wrote a whole ass one shot about minecraft youtubers. I hope you all liked it !! Comments are lovely :]</p><p>I'm thinking about doing another perspective of the story or continuing this in another part but idk. It very much depends on how motivated I am and if I come up with an interesting enough idea to warrant a second part or a bonus chapter. </p><p>Once again if any of the ccs decide they are uncomfortable with fan fiction being written about their personas I will take this down. It is super important to respect creators boundaries!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>